Making animal love in a public dining room;

desperate to eat each other,

cutlery not required.

Plush velvet seats fringed with the taste of your flesh.

I can see through to the second and third courses;

desert is the sweetest I've ever tasted

and can't come quickly enough.

We find ourselves naked in the back bathroom;

the other diners finishing their suppers,

scraping their plates whilst we scrape each other.

I've pocketed the silver salt salver

as a bullet substitute just in case your wolf-self

forgets not to devour me completely.

Then again, I may devour you first.